


On the Edge

by icedteainthebag



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-27
Updated: 2009-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night, impromptu meeting on Pegasus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Edge

No one questions her when she demands a meeting with the President of the Twelve Colonies--she is, of course, the Commander of the fleet and it's really nobody's frakkin' business who she wants to see and when.

Laura Roslin emerges from the Raptor on the hangar deck of Pegasus and the look she casts her is cautious, wary. Her eyebrow arches. "Admiral."

Helena nods once, giving Laura's body a once-over just to make the woman shift her weight in her ever-present perfect heels. "Thank you for coming," she says.

"I'm not exactly certain what I am coming for," the President replies dryly as they begin to make their way to the captain's quarters. She walks with a swing to her hips, her back straight and shoulders back, and Helena knows it's intentional. It’s all a part of her game. "Do you care to enlighten me at all?"

"We've got an issue to discuss, and not one I'd like to divulge for the entire crew to hear," Helena says. "I hope you understand my hesitance to elaborate until we arrive in a more private venue."

"Absolutely," Laura replies curtly.

\--------------

Everything happens so quickly once the hull door is closed and spun locked. Laura’s back hits the wheel of the door and she whimpers as Helena pushes her backward, hard, their mouths crashing together, forced and frenzied, open and wet.

Laura tastes Helena's tongue, strong with liquor, and grabs dark fistfuls of hair, holding her firmly in place.

This is old hat to them, the use of brute force, and the sound of the buttons tearing off of her dress shirt when Helena rips it open makes Laura even more wet. She shoves it down Laura's arms and holds them against her sides as her mouth moves to her jaw, tongue tracing to her ear.

Laura arches her back with a pant and tilts her head, feeling a flush of excitement in her cheeks as she exposes her neck and chest to teeth that graze and bite at her tender flesh. She cries out softly at the slight pain of the bites as she lodges her thigh in the juncture of Helena's legs, grinding upward.

"Frak you," Laura mutters, grinding her leg harder between Helena's legs, feeling her wetness even through her uniform trousers.

"Is that what you want?" Laura feels a hard bite on her shoulder and she slides her hands down Helena's shoulders, shoving her away roughly. Helena steps back and their eyes meet and Laura feels it--electricity, a jolt that flies down her spine, pools in her stomach, heated and desperate.

Laura unzips her skirt and slides it down her legs. She's wearing nothing underneath and she has no frakking idea how Helena does this to her--makes her quiver with a glance, makes her go out without underwear, by her own choosing, in the off chance that they'll get a moment to frak each other into momentary oblivion.

"Take your bra off," Helena growls. Laura stands her ground, putting her hand on her hip.

"Make me." The words make her pussy start to throb.

Helena moves close to her, their bodies grazing against each other before she grabs Laura's hips, pulling them hard against her own. Her hand slides to Laura's lower back while the other goes to her pocket and they're kissing again, kissing so hard Laura feels like her breath is literally being taken from her.

Laura feels the cold slide of metal up her spine and before she has a chance to protest against Helena's mouth, she feels it slide under the back strap of her bra and feels a tug, hears a rip. Her heartbeat quickens and her eyes snap open as her bra falls loosely open.

She tears her mouth away from Helena. "What the frak do you think you're doing?" she breathes, and catches a look in Helena's eyes that instantly alarms her.

She hears the hatch door open and her stomach twists as she feels hands grab her wrists and yank them behind her back.

\--------------

The President is pretty standing up and pretty lying down, but gorgeous when she's naked and struggling against wrist and ankle shackles in Helena's bed, her hair messy, her eyes wild, her teeth bared in a snarl. Her wrists are bound over her head, her legs attached to the rungs at the foot of the bed, spread just enough.

It took a good manner of time to get Laura to this point. She'd fought like a wildcat when her guards grabbed her by the arms and legs from behind, screaming a string of curse words, Frak you and What the frak are you doing and I'll have you frakkin' airlocked, all of you.

But she's quiet now, her bare chest heaving slightly, as she watches Helena pace slowly. Helena is enjoying the view and the quiet as she plays with her knife blade, running the tip along the lifeline of one palm.

“I heard a rumor,” Helena says, looking Laura straight in the eyes as she twirls the tip of the knife in her hand, “that there was an order given to assassinate me.”

Laura stews, not saying a word. She knows better. She walks up to Laura and stands next to her, taking her time to look over her naked body once again. Her long legs, smooth and straining slightly, her trim torso, graceful arms, breasts with nipples peaked firmly to the cold air in the room. Her collarbone is defined and inviting. She sees Laura shiver under her gaze.

“You wouldn’t know who dropped that order, would you, Madam President?”

Helena bends down to look at Laura eye to eye. She takes the tip of her knife and lightly prods Laura’s hipbone and Laura draws a sharp breath in.

“Don’t you frakkin’ touch me,” Laura hisses, staring back at her, her jaw set angrily.

“Who wants me dead?” Helena pays no heed to Laura’s warning as she ever-so-lightly runs the tip of the knife up Laura’s exposed side, slow inch by slow inch. Laura writhes, squeezing her eyes shut, her breath coming out as a gasp as she looks away from her interrogator.

The knife tip travels up the sensitive skin under her arm and makes its way across her shoulder to her collarbone. Helena slows down even more as the tip presses gently into the thin skin at the hollow of Laura’s throat. Laura is panting now, her eyes still squeezed shut, but Helena knows the difference between the sound of fear and the sound of arousal. This is very much the latter.

She presses the flat of the blade against the front of Laura’s neck. Laura yanks her wrists violently down in a sudden struggle against the restraints, but she is firmly tied. Helena made sure of that. She pulls the knife away from her skin, just an inch, while she watches Laura struggle helplessly, her feet slipping against the sheets, her hips arching into the air.

“Are you going to answer me?” Helena asks, amused. Laura’s head jerks to the side and she glares at Helena, licking her lips.

“I don’t know anything about that,” she says, each word punctuated through gritted teeth. She takes two deep breaths in and Helena watches her expression turn defiant, nearly haughty. “You are committing an extremely felonious act, Admiral, holding me against my will like this. I’m sure you’re well aware of the penalties for kidnapping and assault of the President of the Colonies.”

Helena leans in and kisses Laura’s ear, making her gasp. “It’s only a felony if one party doesn’t consent.”

Laura parts her lips to speak, takes a shaky breath as Helena grabs her earlobe between her teeth. “Does it look like I’m consenting to you, Admiral? I’m chained to your bed, for frak’s sake.”

Helena turns the knife on its side again and the tip grazes between Laura’s breasts, slowly, methodically down to her belly button. Laura lets out a soft moan and bites her lip. Helena places the knife on its side against her abdomen, then lets her fingers wander down past the curls at the apex of Laura’s thighs.

“You feel like you are,” Helena murmurs, her mouth against Laura’s neck now, and she can feel her pulse, hot and thready, as she runs her fingers over the wetness between Laura’s legs. Laura’s hips shift and she squeezes her eyes shut again. “Your body betrays you, Madam President.”

“Frak you,” Laura whispers. “Let me go. That’s an order.”

Laura’s inner folds are delicate and slick as Helena ignores her order, exploring more deeply with her fingers, drawing a repressed groan from Laura as the pads of her fingers circle her clit firmly.

“I know it was you,” Helena whispers back against Laura’s skin, nibbling at her collarbone. “You wanted me killed, Madam President.”

Laura’s eyes open slowly and her lips part with bated breath as Helena’s fingers begin rubbing up and down on her wet, hard little clit. Helena feels her hips thrust to the motion of her fingers and she grins.

“It’s okay,” Helena says, flicking her tongue against Laura’s jaw. “I’m a bitch. I probably deserve to be killed. I’ll probably die someday, just like you wanted. But for now, I’m here…” She trails her fingers down to Laura’s opening and teases her just outside. Laura whimpers softly and arches her hips as Helena kisses the side of her mouth. “…and I’m still a bitch, so before I let you go, I’m going to make the President of the Colonies beg me to let her come.”

\--------------

“Oh Gods,” Laura breathes with a pant, her head dizzy, heat coursing through her body. She’s so upset—she doesn’t want to be turned on, she doesn’t want her body to be responding like this, but she can’t help it. She blushes furiously as she arches her back and bears down on Helena’s hand, drawing back her knees as much as she can in her shackles. Helena’s long fingers trace circles around her opening and she bites back a whimper. She wants her to frak her, she wants it, no, she needs it so badly, but she hates that she needs it from her, from this woman who has no compassion, no moral compass. They’re such opposites.

Maybe that is why it turns her on so much.

“Do you want that?” Helena asks, her voice low, turning Laura’s skin into gooseflesh. “Do you want me to make you come? Do you want me to make you scream, Laura?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Laura whispers, and it’s true, so true, her mind fighting with her body, the evidence of her arousal all over Helena’s hand, she’s sure of that. She feels like she’s practically dripping.

“I know what I want,” Helena says with a chuckle. She slips the tips of her fingers inside Laura, two fingers, then three, and Laura moans softly, her chin tilted into the air, as she feels those fingers press upward against her pelvic bone, gently stroking, sending shockwaves through her body.

“What do you want.” Laura’s able to get this out, though her voice is shaking—she’s angry at this woman for chaining her up and leaving her prone, yet angry at herself for wanting more.

“I want to make you come with my tongue.” She kisses the side of Laura’s lips again and Laura moves her face away. She kisses down Laura’s neck and takes one nipple into her mouth, teasing it with her teeth. Laura whimpers and feels her nipple harden to the suck of Helena’s mouth.

“Frak you,” Laura says again, her heart racing.

Her nipple pops out of Helena’ s mouth and it’s so cold when bared to the air. “Nice try,” Helena says. “I’m not buying this defiance of yours, Madam President. Not one bit. But nice try. I like a good fight. But frankly, this isn’t even a good fight.”

Laura knows it to be true. She’s tired from her struggle with the guards earlier, and her pussy is throbbing thinking about Helena’s tongue on it, suckling and stroking to make her come.

“There’s just one thing I need to know,” Helena says, slowly sliding her fingers in and out of Laura. Laura starts working her hips with the movement, fucking Helena’s fingers the best she can with her legs chained to the foot of the bed.

“Yes.” Laura breathes it.

“Well, how do I put this. How about this, Madam President. I want to eat your pussy raw, I want to feel your thighs squeezing my cheeks, but frankly, what kills that delicious fantasy of mine is the idea that maybe, just maybe, Bill Adama has already been there first.”

Laura feels her stomach twist into a knot. “What the frak are you saying?” she says, twisting her neck to look Helena in the eyes. She feels another blush across her cheeks and she takes several deep breaths to try and calm down. “How dare you say something like that to me.”

“Oh, please,” Helena says, rolling her eyes with a smirk. “All of this innocence was cute at first, but now it’s just frakkin’ irritating. I’m serious. I’m not going to put my mouth anywhere Admiral Adama’s cock has been. The thought sickens me, actually. So I need to know…have you two frakked?”

Laura opens her mouth, but words won’t come out. Helena’s palm grinds against her clit and she grinds back, feeling ashamed at how much she wants this despite all of Helena’s inappropriate accusations. “It’s none of your business,” she says pointedly, feeling the anger welling inside of her.

“Oh, yes it is,” Helena says. “If you want this, you’ll tell me.”

“I don’t want it,” Laura replies, straining her wrists against the cuffs again, trying to shake her legs free. Suddenly she feels too trapped, too cornered, with Helena’s hand between her legs. “Let me free. This is ludicrous.”

Helena stands up beside her and removes her hand, bringing it to her mouth to suck on her fingers while examining Laura thoughtfully. Laura yanks her wrists against the restraints and hisses as they dig into her skin. It burns and she grits her teeth.

“I’m not through with you yet,” Helena says, taking a few steps along the bed, down to her legs. Then she gets on her knees, facing Laura’s spread legs, and bends in to dip her head and lap at the outer lips of her pussy, a long, flat lap of her tongue, sending sparks through Laura’s body.

“Oh, Gods,” Laura breathes, shifting her hips, at first, trying to shy away from the touch, but it feels so good, and she suddenly wants more despite herself, despite her feelings and knowledge that she has no control whatsoever of this situation.

“So has he frakked you?” Helena asks again, lapping at her again.

Laura grits her teeth, raising her hips from the bed. “No,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling shame and embarrassment flow over her like a wave of heat.

“Are you frakking with me?” Helena says before her tongue seeks Laura’s inner folds.

“I’m telling the truth,” Laura says. “We haven’t…he hasn’t…it’s never come up…”

Helena chuckles and flicks her tongue against Laura’s clit. Laura moans, the pleasure radiating from that point through her abdomen. “That’s the most frakked up thing I’ve ever heard. He’s missing out.”

“Is he?” Laura asks on a breath, thrusting her hips up gently, beckoning, begging for more. Helena obliges, running the tip of her tongue in circles around Laura’s clit and making her squirm.

“Man’s a frakkin’ idiot,” Helena says firmly, as if she’s making a declaration for the entire fleet to hear. “I’d frak you days on end if I could. But unfortunately…you and I just don’t get along.”

Helena takes Laura’s clit into her mouth then and sucks it firmly, gently tugging with her teeth, and Laura arches her back, yanking her wrists against her shackles yet again and yelping at the pain she feels as they cut into her skin. She spreads her legs as much as possible as Helena sucks harder, more intently, her eyes traveling up Laura’s body and meeting, an electric current passing through their gaze.

Laura already feels it building—she’s been so wet through all of this, and it’s not going to take her long, but Helena knows she’s already on edge and backs away, instead thrusting two fingers firmly and deeply into Laura’s pussy. Laura cries out at the sensation of this forceful penetration and at the rapid curl and stroke of Helena’s fingers inside of her.

“More?” Helena breathes, flicking her clit over and over.

“Yes, more, more, please,” Laura says, and she knows she’s begging already, and she throws all modesty out the window for the moment. “Please, more.”

Laura feels herself stretch when Helena shoves three fingers inside her now, and she’s full inside and her clit is quivering under the rub of Helena’s tongue. Helena starts frakking her faster with her fingers and she’s embarrassingly wet, so wet she can hear it.

“How hard would Bill frak you?” Helena asks, grinding her fingers into Laura to the knuckle. Laura twists her hips, squeezing around the fingers buried deep inside her.

“Harder,” Laura breathes. “He’d frak me harder.”

“I bet he would,” Helena says, drawing her fingers out and thrusting them harder, deeper, faster. Laura starts moving her hips to keep up with it, crying out softly every time Helena teases her clit with her tongue and pulls away. “Say his name. Right now. Do it.”

“Frak you,” Laura breathes, her head dizzy, her orgasm building slowly in her abdomen.

“Do it or I stop,” Helena demands, thrusting hard into her again. She arches her back violently with a whimper.

“Bill,” Laura whispers, feeling her chest and face get hot, so hot.

Helena’s mouth descends on her pussy and she teases her clit with her tongue, rubbing hard, flicking, rolling on it. “Bill, frak me, please, Bill…”

She’s oh so close now, and she can’t believe what she’s saying, and what’s happening, and she jerks her wrists and ankles repeatedly against the restraints to no avail. Helena’s tongue tucks under the hood of her clit and Laura cries out loudly, bucking against her mouth.

“Tell me to make you come,” Helena growls against her flesh.

“Bill, make me come, Bill…”

And then it hits her hard, a straight shot of pleasure from her clit to her head, and she comes against Helena’s mouth, grinding her pussy downward as much as she can. She moans his name over and over into the space around them between sharp gasps and groans at the shockwaves settling into her body. Then it fades to a whisper, this mantra of his name as she shifts from side to side slightly while Helena slows down her fingering and tonguing.

“That worked for you,” Helena says, and Laura detects a hint of jealousy in her voice. She’s shaking like a leaf and her wrists and ankles are aching.

“Please,” Laura whispers, closing her eyes, feeling a sudden shame wash over her at what just happened. “Please let me go.”

“I’ll let you go,” Helena says, standing up. She walks away and brings back the key to gingerly unlock the shackles around Laura’s wrists and ankles. The red cuff marks sting on her flesh and she runs her fingers lightly over them, shuddering at the sharp pinpricks of pain. Then she draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, suddenly feeling uncomfortably exposed to the Admiral who is still completely dressed.

“You’re free to leave,” Helena finally says.

“Of course I am,” Laura replies, looking up into Helena’s eyes. “This. This doesn’t go anywhere. I hear one word of it, and you’re going to be convicted on the charges I mentioned earlier. And I will have you executed. I will personally airlock you, Admiral Cain. Is that clear.”

Helena looks nearly amused. “By all means, Madam President. This matter remains confidential.”

Laura stands up and fetches her clothes, her limbs shaking from the strain of her captivity. She puts them on slowly and can feel Helena watching her every move.

She turns around to face her. “I did suggest the order to kill you, Admiral Cain.”

Helena smiles widely now, her hands crossed in front of her body. “Of course you did.”

Laura tilts her head, feeling unsettled by Helena’s seeming lack of emotional reaction to her admission. She takes a deep breath, then turns to open the hatch.

“Madam President.”

She doesn’t turn back around, doesn’t want to look into her eyes again for a long while.

“Yes?”

“I ordered a hit on you too.”

Laura takes a sharp breath and closes her eyes.

“Tonight you made me change my mind.”


End file.
